


The Pepperint Experiment

by InnerSpectrum



Series: Sherlock December Ficlets 2017 [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff, Romance, Sherlock December Ficlets 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 17:49:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12917064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/pseuds/InnerSpectrum
Summary: On a freezing night, without heat in the flat, Sherlock runs an experiment with John.





	The Pepperint Experiment

**Author's Note:**

> I just found out about this [Sherlock December Ficlets ](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fcollections%2FSherlock_December_Ficlets_2017&t=NjRmODc4ZjE3OGJjNjUzYzg2NWVhY2QzMTRjNDJmOTUwMzdkOTRhMCxabzFVQjBkMA%3D%3D&b=t%3AfMPAp7-tN-90HMCNGHRDOw&p=http%3A%2F%2Fmissdaviswrites.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F167644180668%2Fsherlock-december-ficlets&m=0) challenge, so I'm a little behind, but I like it and I'll catch up.  
> The prompt used for this entry: Bundled up / Peppermint

“Oh for Christ's sake, you're kidding right? It’s negative everything out there!”

John opened the door to 221B almost walking into a plumber as Mrs. Hudson stood in front of the door to her flat and watched the proceedings.

“Sorry John, I'd hope it was something easy, but apparently the entire boiler has to be replaced. It's already after 8pm.” The woman shivered in her coat.

John groaned inwardly. If it could have annoyed him today, it did. It was a long day at the clinic followed by a long tube ride home. This was just the icing on the cake. Hah icing! After 8pm and on a Friday evening nonetheless. He did not blame them. The workers wanted to go home on this freezing evening like everyone else. He knew if his flatmate wanted to push it, one phone call and this would be a non-issue. A worker promised the boiler will be up and running tomorrow.  They just had to make it through the night.

Freezey peasey.

He could tell by the overnight bag at her feet, Hudders was spending the frigid night next door at Mrs. Turner where it was nice and warm. He didn’t blame her, almost envied her.

“He’s upstairs of course?” He asked the unnecessary, her grin was all the answer he needed. He waited with her until all of the workers were gone and bade her a good night before he went up.

A roaring fire in the salon, which he expected, was not there. What he did not expect, though quite lovely to smell, was the warming scent wafting through the air.

“Oh John, you’re here! Almost done.” Sherlock barely looked up from the kitchen table, his breath misted the air. He was fully dressed, bundled up in his long wool cool buttoned tightly around him, blue scarf loose around his neck. He actually wore the deerstalker; it was that cold in the flat. The mad genius held a scalpel in one ungloved hand and a small round disc in the other. There were tiny red, white and mixed shards on a cooking tray. He had been at this for a little while, with varying success, going by the controlled mess in front of him.

John bit his lip. Part in amusement at the concentration of his insane flatmate as he studiously works. Part in consternation as he could see Sherlock’s fingertips were nearly blue as he attempted to separate the colored swirls of a bag of peppermint sweeties.

“How about we start a fire? Warm the place up a bit, ya?” John headed for the wood and kindling by the fire place.

“No, not yet.”

“No?”

“The cold makes the slicing easier, more precise.”

“Look at your hands. The only thing you are about to slice are your own fingers. Sherlock Holmes put down that scalpel and put on your gloves now!” John used his full captain's voice. Sherlock looked up clearly about to protest, but John quirked a brow that practically dared him.

Sherlock’s focus had been solely on the blade and the peppermints. The detective actually looked at his fingers tips which were indeed turning colors and decided the doctor _may_ have a slight point and relented. He shoved his balled hands in his coat pockets, but sat and looked at the tray forlornly.

“But I don’t have enough for the experiment…” It was near Dickensian in piteousness as luminous orbs looked at him with puppy eyes and a bottom lip slightly poked out.

John knew he was being played, oh absolutely knew it.  It took him _everything_ to maintain a stern face, even as he rolled his eyes to the high heavens as he took off his gloves. He washed his hands and picked up the scalpel. Sherlock simply smirked and watched for a few moments to make sure John was doing it correctly before went to put the kettle on the stove to boil.

“Dare I even ask the purpose of this insane endeavor?” Johns inquired when Sherlock indicated that enough was done. He cannot help but smirk with a little pride, his doctor’s touch having done a somewhat better job of it than Sherlock.

“No you may not dare.” Sherlock took the scalpel from him and rinsed it off. He opened the refrigerator and calmly jabbed it into heaven only knew what. He did it fast as he blocked the view, John decided it was likely a good thing he did not see whatever it was.

“In fact, I now need you to leave the kitchen, John.”  

Several alarms went off in John’s head as Sherlock pulled him to his feet and walked him towards the salon.

“Sherlock…”

“Just trust me with this one John. It’ll be worth it.”

John nearly fell into the salon as Sherlock all but shoved him out of the kitchen and slid the doors behind him. John blinked as he heard a latch engage.

He wondered when the hell was there a latch on the door and didn’t even bother to run for it, as he head a latch engage on the hall door to the kitchen as well.

“I swear to God Sherlock; I will tell Hudders to not make you any mince pies for Christmas if you make a mess in that kitchen!” He yelled as he stalked away.

“Where are you going?” Sherlock cracked open the door at John’s receding back.

“It’s cold as your brother in here and dropping. If the candy slicing is finished, I presume heat is no longer an issue? I’m going to start the damn fire.” He did his best to answer in Sherlock’s _don’t be an idiot_ tone and apparently succeeded as the detective narrowed his eyes before he closed and latched the doors again.

“Fine, don’t forget to get more wood from downstairs so we won’t have to do it later.” Sherlock yelled from the kitchen.

John shook his head, various subtext amusing him, as he started the kindling for the fire.

He’s annoyed anew when he gets downstairs and realized the cord of wood usually kept outside near Mrs. Hudson’s back door was moved further away. The whole point of keeping it by the door was for times like this so one would not have to stumble and dig for it as he was doing. He let out a string of curses, some of them in Farsi, as he gathered enough wood taking two trips to their level upstairs. 

All annoyance vanished when he reentered the flat itself. Sherlock has moved the chairs from in front of the fireplace and dragged what looked like the comforter and all of the blankets from their bed. They were now bundled to make a very warm and inviting nest in front of the fire that was already taking some of the the chill out of the room. Moreover, the enticing scent of chocolate now overlaid the peppermint.

Sherlock slid open the kitchen doors to the salon balancing a tray with a variety of mugs.

“Tonight’s experiment: Is there a difference between the red and white stripes of peppermint? And can we taste them? Well, can you taste them since I already know which is which.” He offered the doctor a partially filled mug and put the tray down out of the way.

“You made peppermint cocoa? From scratch? Just for a taste experiment?” John laughed delighted. He dumped the second batch of wood by the fireplace and took the offered mug.

John tried a couple of samples not really tasting much differences between them other than to note they were all quite tasty.

“Now try this last one.” Sherlock handed John one more mug. This one was near full.

“Oh! Oh, hell! This is goooood! Ooooh!” John took a sip, his eyes closed in warm rapture at the flavors that rolled over his tongue. He flushed with an embarrassed laugh as Sherlock raised a dark brow at the most interesting sounds of pleasure that escaped as he sipped some more. Knowing the meaning of that brow, John grinned as he started to warm up from more than just the fire and the cocoa as he removed his hat and jacket and tossed them to the sofa. 

“Oh now, I see I’m just going to have to do something _extraordinarily_ _decadent_ to compete with that sound.” Sherlock quipped as he removed his own coat and hat, then tossed them alongside John’s.

“Well, you’re welcome to try,” John took another sip, enthusiastically vocalizing his enjoyment of the drink. “But it’s going to have to be _brilliant_ indeed to compete with the likes of this.”

Blue eyes are happily trapped in a green gaze as Sherlock’s chuckle rumbled deep, the genius' smile pure sin, as he approached John as a hunter would prey. 

“Challenge accepted.”

<><><><> 

“Damn, why is it so hot in here?” John pushed out from under the bundle of blankets hours later.

“Oh, I went downstairs and turned the heat back on around 3am.” Sherlock mumbled still half asleep.

“Wait… You mean the boiler’s not broken?” John leaned up on an elbow as he put it all together, “You wanted cuddle sex by the fire, you absolute nutter!”

Sherlock blinked as he woke up fully, realizing he’s busted.

“No, it's not.” Amused, but not in the least bit guilty, eyes gleamed wickedly at the doctor, “And yes, I absolute did.”

“You’re quite mad you know.” John pushed an errant dark curl from the genius’ forehead.

Sherlock quickly rolled on top of John and pinned him to the floor.

“Only for you.”

“Worth it.” John grinned.

“Told you.” Sherlock leaned down for a kiss.


End file.
